


vengeance

by tallycravens



Series: Motherland: Fort Salem Oneshots [10]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: F/F, This one is dark as hell, inspired by Dare Me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25694623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallycravens/pseuds/tallycravens
Summary: If someone had tried to tell Raelle that she’d be helping her friends hide a body, she would’ve laughed out loud. It’s the kind of thing a girl promises her friends that she’d do if that time ever comes, but it’s a comment made in jest. No one ever expects a friend to cash in on that promise.(AU)//Trigger warnings for murder & vague mentions of sexual assault.
Relationships: Abigail Bellweather & Tally Craven, Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Series: Motherland: Fort Salem Oneshots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868044
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42





	vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something new in style and tone. Would love to hear your thoughts on this one.

The muscles in her arms ache miserably as she continues to shovel heavy dirt, unbidden sweat pouring down her face. Between the three of them, it doesn’t take much longer to cover the body. It isn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it is the best that they can manage under the circumstances. 

All they can do now is hope for the best, which doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. The location was Scylla’s idea; the old abandoned mill long forgotten by the town’s inhabitants. She reasoned that if his body was eventually found, it would likely be a long time from now. No one comes out here anymore, and after the end of their senior year, they’ll all be going their separate ways.

If someone had tried to tell Raelle that she’d be helping her friends hide a body, she would’ve laughed out loud. It’s the kind of thing a girl promises her friends that she’d do if that time ever comes, but it’s a comment made in jest. No one ever expects a friend to cash in on that promise. 

It had happened in the heat of the moment. She couldn’t begrudge her reaction, because the thought had crossed her mind, too. She had nearly driven her father’s truck out to his house that night just to give him a scare. She had talked herself out of it because there were too many things that could go wrong. 

This being one of them.

While she recognizes that they’ve done something wrong, there’s no doubt the world is a better place without him.  _ Safer, _ at the very least.

* * *

  
  


She sneaks out of her bedroom window under the cover of night, climbs down the lattice and lands with ease on the wet grass below. It’s been raining all evening and still doesn’t falter as she walks down the winding driveway of the old family farmhouse. Raelle considers slipping into her father’s worn pickup truck, but knows the roar of the engine will give her away. Instead she takes her rusty blue bicycle out of the barn, tests the tire to ensure it’s safe, then hops on.  _ It wasn’t supposed to be like this _ , she thinks as she pedals with fury,  _ but they didn’t give me any choice _ . She’s not one of those girls who can trust her parents, least of all with something like this.

Her calves burn with the force of propelling herself forward but she ignores the pain because she’s made a promise and Raelle Collar doesn’t break promises, not ever. She replays tonight’s events in her mind, the plastic phone nearly pressed against her lips as she speaks in hushed tones, words meant to comfort, but words that ultimately fail. A curfew means nothing when someone needs you and that’s why she doesn’t hesitate for even a minute when she assures Tally that she’ll be there, no matter what. 

After this brief conversation, she makes one final call. Scylla agrees to meet her at the edge of town and she can hear the way her brows crease, the undercurrent of concern in her tone. She drops what she’s doing and accepts her plans without question, just as she knew she would. It hurts to think of the redhead crying, knowing the deep pain she’s feeling from hearing it in her voice. She thinks that maybe it’s sunshine-sweet people like Tally Craven who have the farthest to fall.

She pants as she reaches her destination, pressing the button on the side of her colorful Casio watch. The face lights up to show the time. Twelve-fifteen. Scylla’s due to arrive at any moment. She pulls down the hood of her windbreaker and her hands clench around the handlebars, knuckles going white as she closes her eyes and lifts her head toward the sky. The raindrops splatter against her face, a cold and wet reminder of a simpler time, of catching raindrops on her tongue and stomping through puddles in bright yellow galoshes, holding hands with the beautiful girl with ginger hair and an unforgettable smile.  _ Oh, Tally, _ she thinks as her tears mix with the rain running down her cheeks, but her thoughts quickly melt away as through her eyelids, she suddenly sees the bright yellow headlights.

Her eyes flutter open to the sight of Scylla’s idling blue Geo Metro and she smiles as the brunette turns the window crank, shouting at her to throw her bike in back. She does just that, slipping into the passenger seat with ease. It feels wrong to smile, to be grateful to see her, given what’s happened.

“Abigail is already with her,” Scylla murmurs over Fiona Apple’s warbling tones on the stereo.

Raelle leans forward and turns the volume knob counterclockwise, shoulders relaxing as Fiona’s voice fades away. She can barely hear herself think. Music right now is just too much extra noise. 

She leans back into her seat, buttoning and unbuttoning her flannel shirt in an effort to keep her fingers busy. “How do you know?” She asks after a moment, when Scylla’s words are fully absorbed.

“She’s the one who called me. I don’t know how she got there so fast, but...Rae, the way she sounded?” Scylla falters, biting her lip as she keeps her eyes focused on the road ahead. “It scared me.”

* * *

She looks so small in that hospital bed. Abigail hovers over her like a stern protector, dark eyes narrowed, clearly on edge, and she only releases her hold on Tally’s hand when Raelle moves closer to her bedside. She steps back, jaw clenched and head bowed respectfully.

Raelle has never seen Abigail with nothing to say. When Scylla tries to put her hand on Abigail’s shoulder, she shrugs it away and pushes past her, fury leading her out the door. They don’t follow, recognizing that she needs a minute. 

The blonde easily takes Abigail’s place, fingers brushing Tally’s as she takes her in, the cut on her forehead, the bruising to her face, sweaty ginger hair matted to her scalp. It’s too much. She bites her tongue and closes her eyes, trying to push back the tears threatening to spill over.

She’d never wish a bad thing on anyone. Not ever. But this? This is _ the _ worst thing. The worst thing has happened to the kindest, best person she knows. 

The grief and guilt sends her sprawling. This doesn’t feel quite real. Raelle feels as if she’s in a nightmare, and it didn’t even happen to her. She can’t begin to imagine how Tally must be feeling.

Her stomach churns as she pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. She can feel a headache coming on. Raelle desperately wants to be there for her friend, but she doesn’t know what she can do to make this right, or even a little bit better. All she can do is be there and hope that somehow, some way, that is enough.

“It’s going to be okay,” Scylla murmurs comfortingly from the end of the bed. “We’ve got you.”

Raelle opens her eyes in time to see Scylla press a kiss to the top of Tally’s head. She’s wordlessly taken a place at her other side, standing like a bodyguard with her sharp gaze trained on the door. 

“Tally, I…” She doesn’t have the right words, fumbles for them with her brow creased and Tally simply catches Raelle’s hand in hers and her cracked red lips turn upward into a smile.

After everything, the fact that she can still manage a smile at all is nothing short of a miracle.

After a long silence, Tally gratefully speaks, “Thank you for coming,” but her voice sounds dull and disconnected, as if it’s coming from another source.

She doesn’t sound like Tally. Doesn’t look much like her either. It occurs to Raelle that she might never be the same after this.

Goddess, she hopes not. Tally’s the kind of girl whose smile lights up a room, who emanates a kind of joy that someone like Raelle can find annoying at times, but also more than a little infectious. 

She never wants anything to dull that light. She can’t count the number of times Tally’s given her hope when she’s had none. 

The thought of anyone hurting her is too much to bear, yet someone has. She’s shaking and Scylla takes her other hand across the hospital bed, nodding her head in understanding. She recognizes what Raelle is feeling, wants her to know she isn’t alone in this.

“No one is ever going to hurt you again,” Abigail promises as she comes back into the room, kicking harshly at the trash can in the corner and knocking it over.

Tally winces at her display of anger, shrinking away from Raelle’s touch and curling into herself. When Abigail notices her reaction, she swallows, allowing the tears to flow but ignoring them as they cascade freely down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Tally. I just fucking hate it...seeing you like this. I love you, Tal.”

“We  _ all _ do,” Scylla echoes, sharing a wan smile with Raelle, who hums in agreement.

Yes, they all do. But Abigail loves her differently. She always has.

Abigail’s whispered words send a chill through her bones. _ “He won’t get away with this.” _

* * *

  
  


The police officer isn’t much help and even Abigail with her Bellweather name can’t seem to make him take this seriously. 

He treats Tally like she has simple regrets about hooking up with someone, not as if she’s been violated. She doesn’t have a lot of information to give him, either, doesn’t recall most of what happened.

Raelle thinks that is a blessing in disguise. It’s better she forgets than remembers what he’s done to her. 

The marks on her body tell a story all their own, but it quickly becomes clear that it isn’t enough. The officer is so dismissive that both Abigail and Ralle get worked up. It takes Scylla pulling them back from the brink of confusion and rage to ensure that they aren’t arrested.

She’s angry, too, but she’s not going to do anything stupid. Scylla’s always been her voice of reason. She and Abigail are quick to fly off the handle, but Scylla’s calm, cool and collected, something Raelle has always admired. It comes in handy in tough situations like these.

Little does Raelle know, it’s the quiet ones you have to worry about.

  
  


* * *

All of this was Scylla’s idea, she discovers with shock. Vengeance, vigilantism, whatever you want to call it, she had planned every single step. She and Abigail did it together, without her.

Raelle doesn’t ask for the story because she doesn’t want to know. Plausible deniability and besides, the blood and the stab wounds said it all. Any question that occurs to her goes unasked, because she’s not in any way prepared for the answers.

She hopes Scylla’s as intelligent as she seems, that she’s thought of everything. There can be no trace of evidence leading back to them.

* * *

Her face streaked with blood, Abigail looks up, eyes wide and full of maniacal glee. Scylla nods her head. 

Things haven’t gone as planned. Not even close. The injection meant to render him unconscious wasn’t strong enough. She had tried to calculate based on an assumed weight, but the man was much larger than she’d expected.

This is messy, but Scylla thinks quickly on her feet. She instructs Abigail on how to clean up the mess, then starts toward the bedroom to make the story plausible. She makes it seem like he’s simply up and left. Together she and Abigail hoist him into a steamer trunk, grunting because he’s much too heavy. 

His belongings join him in the trunk, and they’re quite lucky to find a dolly in the garage with his tools and lawn mower. As they load him into the trunk of Abigail’s car, they breathe heavily. They’ve thought ahead, already bought the shovels, but they can’t do this alone. 

They need Raelle’s strength. Tally will act as lookout. She doesn’t need to see this.

Scylla checks and double-checks everything. They can’t afford to make a stupid mistake.

* * *

  
  


“Is it done?” Tally asks, shivering in the back of Abigail’s SUV, her athlete friend’s varsity jacket draped haphazardly over her shuddering shoulders.

Raelle shakes her head and quietly observes as Abigail takes Tally’s face in her hands and presses the gentlest of kisses to her forehead. “It’s done. You’re safe now.”

It’s a paradox, seeing Abigail be so gentle and sweet with Tally after she’s committed the most brutal and violent of crimes. But she knows as she watches them interact, that Abigail had done this out of love for her. She’s not sure she would’ve done the same for her, or for Scylla, for that matter.

What they’ve done is irreversible, a sacred pact between them that only solidifies the deep bond they have always shared. 

They’re in this together now. No matter what happens.

* * *

Turns out, he’s not the kind of man that people miss. Go figure.

Life goes on, but there’s no forgetting what they’ve done. It’s something they will have to live with forever. 

This doesn’t mean they have any regrets. There is one less dangerous man in the world. Who knows how many people they’ve saved from suffering the same fate?

Tally lays in bed, safe and warm, curled into Abigail’s side. She is her protector. Always has been, always will be. 

She had always dreamed of having someone in her life who would do anything for her.  Now she knows that she does.

  
  



End file.
